


where we take this road

by nebulera



Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marvel 616/MCU Crossover, Multiverse, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 18:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15540027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebulera/pseuds/nebulera
Summary: Of course this morning had to start off with there being two Steve Rogers in his house, and one of them is upstairs in his bed.





	where we take this road

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Broken Mirrors](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9120835) by [laireshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi). 



When Tony wakes, he immediately registers the arm thrown over his torso and the quiet breathing against his neck. He glances at the neon clock on the nightstand, hums when he realizes he’s gotten in more than his usual two hours of sleep and it happens to be because of the giant pressed up against his back when he’d come down to the workshop, barely having to pry Tony’s hands of his tech before swooping him into his arms and carrying him to Tony’s bed and crawling under the covers with him.

 

Well, it was their bed by now.

 

Tony lies there, meaning to get up, but he stays still and listens to the other man’s light breathing. He glances over at the peaceful face behind him, sleepily and softly trails his fingertips in light taps over the arm hugging him close and meets tired eyes blinking open.

 

They’re blue eyes Tony has known for six years and only a year and a half at the same time.

 

“Oh, he’s awake,” Tony whispers with fake surprise, turns in the arm holding him so he’s laying half on his back, but still more or less pressed against the other man. “Hello,” he says when he feels a kiss against his neck.

 

“Hello,” Steve says, his lips working their way up.

 

This is not something Tony would have believed occurring years ago. He’d _thought_ , maybe one day—but it didn’t really matter anymore now did it. You’d think, after seeing aliens fall from the sky or someone like Thor, who can summon lightning at the drop of a hat, that a portal opening up in his living room while he’d been trying to eat a bowl of cereal—to get Friday and Rhodey off his back about eating _something_ —would be pretty standard procedure at this point. Except no, of course everything had to be complicated, because from that portal came a Steve fucking Rogers who didn’t even go here, never went here, and was from a whole different universe.

 

And to make matters more complicated, here he still was over a year later with Tony in his arms.

 

He looks like the Steve of this universe, sounds like him. But he’s a bit older, more hardened, holds Tony close and sometimes too tight. Tony refrains himself from asking too much about his world, not for lack of trying. This Steve had also gone through a ‘Civil War’, one much worse than Tony could imagine, because Steve had ended up killed, but being brought back didn’t erase the pain. Even with the war itself being a long time ago for him, nothing’s been easier since. The Tony of his universe was different, has blue eyes, is sober and refuses to touch a drink, and from what Tony can gather, always at odds with Steve. So maybe it wasn’t that different. With any mention of the topic, Tony could see clear as day the walls coming down from behind Steve’s eyes and the way he’d tremble while he spoke. Opening up about his previous home was like ripping through stitches. Tony just opened up to him in return.

 

They lie together like this for a few more minutes, Tony’s eyes falling closed again at some point. He feels Steve lean over, lips ghosting over Tony’s.

 

“Morning breath,” Tony warns.

 

“Uh-huh,” Steve replies and kisses him.

 

“Old man,” Tony whispers, turning completely so he’s facing opposite of Steve on his side. He reaches up to brush back the other man’s short hair. “I’m going downstairs, in the mood for… omelettes?”

 

Steve closes his eyes, leans into the touch. “You’re terrible at making omelettes, Tony.”

 

“Okay, for that comment I’m gonna spit in yours.”

 

Steve blinks one eye open. “I’ve had worse things than your spit in my mouth.”

 

Oh god. “Come here, right now,” Tony says with a smile and Steve just pulls Tony closer to him, practically smothering him with kisses over his cheeks, his beard, before settling his face into Tony’s neck again.

 

“I’m getting up,” Tony says. When Steve grunts in disapproval, Tony just kisses his hair and slides out of bed. He lazily decides to throw on the closest shirt on the floor which happens to be one of Steve’s t-shirts that Tony bought for him around the time he’d arrived. He pulls on some pajama pants and turns to the sleepy form on the bed. “Don’t go anywhere.”

 

…

 

No one is usually up around this time. Well, save for Vision because he doesn’t ever sleep, but Rhodey is still usually out like a light, so Tony doesn’t expect the unusual as he makes his way into the empty kitchen, doesn't register his surroundings because his eyes are bleary and he needs  _coffee_.

 

Keeping the fact that there was a Steve Rogers from a different universe from the remaining Avengers was impossible and pointless, so they were informed of the situation to their lack of real shock. After seeing everything that’s happened on Earth, it was probably the least concerning problem. Since then, they’ve been slowly working towards finding a way to reopen the portal that dropped Steve in this universe, but Tony knew as the months went by with little progress and no living expert on Earth to actually come up with a real solution, that Steve was indefinitely stuck here.

 

But… it’s not like Steve is in a hurry to get back anyways.

 

He wipes at his eyes tiredly as he walks into the kitchen, bare feet padding lightly on the tile. He doesn't bother with the light switches, lets the sunlight from the windows guide him around the counter to the coffee maker where he begins to make a pot for Steve and himself. Coffee isn’t a meal, Steve would say to him, and just because he’s feeling extra generous today, he won’t let that be the truth. He wonders if they actually even have eggs for him to make them all breakfast, so Tony goes to the fridge, checks, and yes, they do, good, he thinks as he closes the doors, glances up—

 

He can see clear as day that there’s someone behind him, through the shadows of the reflective fridge, can see a figure standing further back, waiting, and Tony freezes. He stays where he is in front of the fridge, one hand resting against the stainless steel. He _knows_ if it were any of the people who live here, Rhodey, Steve, Vision, that they would have announced themselves by now, said good morning and go on about their day. They wouldn’t be standing so eerily still behind him. Tony knows he can summon the suit with the flick of his wrist, knows he can defend himself, if this person is who he thinks he is. He faintly realizes that his heart is beating rapidly against his chest. He stays still and waits.

 

“Tony,” says that voice and Tony’s breath hitches.

 

He turns around, and across the counter by the lounging area stands the Steve Rogers of this universe. Tony immediately takes in the new look, the beard, the longer hair. He’s not wearing his uniform, instead just jeans and a leather jacket thrown over a hoodie. A typical look for a New Yorker in winter, or in this case, a fugitive.

 

Tony thinks about the stupid flip phone upstairs in his nightstand drawer, knows he hasn’t touched that in _months._ He’d never called, so what is he… Tony doesn’t know if this Steve being here right now is a worse problem than the fact that there are two Steve Rogers in his house, one of them upstairs in his bed. God, he hopes Steve doesn’t come downstairs.

 

“How did you get in here,” Tony bites out, keeps his breathing steady.

 

Rogers, he deems him in his mind because they never were really on a first name basis were they, not until everything fell apart, simply says, “You never terminated my entrance code.”

 

No, he supposes he didn’t. “You shouldn’t be here,” Tony says firmly, shaking his head. “You _can’t_ be here.”

 

“Tony—”

 

“I didn’t call you—”

 

“This isn’t about the phone,” Rogers says, a hand cutting swiftly through the air for emphasis. “I wasn’t planning on speaking face to face with you. I just came to check out the compound from afar and make sure you were okay.”

 

Tony realizes he’d been making his way across the floor while Rogers spoke and plants himself down firmly, close to the common room entrance. He’s disgustingly vulnerable right now, barefoot and wearing only pajama pants and Steve’s too-big shirt for him. He wishes he could disappear and hide himself completely from the man across from him.

 

“Then what are you doing here, Rogers?” Tony says, crossing his arms, maybe to show his assertiveness, maybe to simply cover his chest from the man who’d smashed his shield into it almost two years ago. “If you couldn’t tell, you’re not welcome to just stop by when you feel like it.”

 

“I know that,” Rogers states lowly. He takes a step forward. Tony takes a step back. Rogers doesn’t move again. His lips set into a thin line as he scans the floor instead of looking at Tony, eyes bright blue and lost. He raises his head, meets Tony’s gaze. “Are you going to call Ross?”

 

Rogers takes Tony’s silence as an answer.

 

“I saw you last night,” Rogers starts and already Tony’s stomach feels uneasy. Last night he’d been in the workshop, tinkering for only a few hours before he was dragged to bed. But before that, he’d been… he and Steve had been…

 

“You were walking the forest perimeter,” Rogers continues. It had snowed last night so after dinner they’d put on some coats and walked outside together. He remembers the warmth of Steve’s hand in his, remembers the way they leaned against each other, their arms around one another, remembers the way Steve had laughed, taken Tony’s baseball cap off and kissed him while snow landed on their cheeks.

 

Tony doesn’t move.

 

“What is he, Tony,” Rogers asks, like it’s taking everything in him to not sound authoritative. Like Captain America. “A clone? Some kind of alien?”

 

“No,” he replies, throat working against him. Tony lets out a defeated sigh. “He’s—well, he’s  _you_ for all intents and purposes.” Ha, maybe not _all._ “He’s from a different universe.”

 

The super-soldier’s brows furrow, confused. “And he’s just staying here with you?”

 

Tony throws his arms up. “Where the hell else could he go?” And he’s right about this, there isn’t anywhere for him _to_ go. His previous home was with the Avengers, which were completely disbanded here, he had no real option other than to take Tony’s offer and stay at the compound. Not to mention he’s got a face all too similar to the very public figure, Captain America, be it a little older and wearier. One glance from the wrong person and it was all over.

 

“Tony, this isn’t… we don’t know anything about him.” Tony rolls his eyes at Rogers’ ‘we’. “He could be dangerous, he could—”

 

“He’s been around for a year and a half, Cap,” Tony cuts him off. “If he was planning something sinister, he would have done it by now.”

 

“I worry, Tony.”

 

Tony’s fists clench at his sides. He has no right. “There’s nothing to worry _about_!”

 

“For you, there is,” Rogers says, then shakes his head. “I saw the two of you out there together.” He’s already said this, but Tony knows he’s talking about just _how_ they were together.

 

“So,” he snarls, his glare piercing through Rogers like a knife. His heart’s pounding hard in his chest. Say something, he thinks. I dare you.

 

Rogers eyes turn comprehensive and his posture changes so swiftly Tony could have blinked and missed it. “You and him,” Rogers says, confirming.

 

He doesn't have to explain himself or his relationship to to him. He doesn't owe him _anything._

 

Tony says, lowly, “It’s none of your goddamn business, Rogers.”

 

Tony’s heart will not back down. He does not want to be having this conversation, he wishes he were a thousand miles away right now just to escape whatever Rogers has to say, to escape the way he’s looking at Tony.

 

Rogers’ eyes cast back down to the floor. “Did you—” he cuts himself off, moves to press a palm against the countertop and lean against it. Rogers doesn’t look up. “Did you ever feel that way about me?”

 

Tony sucks in a breath, feels his face twisting into something that could betray him. He could tell the truth about any fleeting feelings he had before Rogers had tossed him aside. He could lie. Instead, Tony growls, “You don’t get to ask me that.”

 

He isn’t lying to himself when he realizes any feelings he could have had for Rogers are buried by what he feels for the man upstairs in his room.

 

“Okay,” Rogers says with finality. “Is he going back to his universe?”

 

“We’re working on it,” Tony says, ignoring the way his chest clamps up. “He’s not in a hurry.”

 

“And what will you do if _his_ people find their way to him?”

 

Tony shuts his eyes briefly. It’s a possibility, yes. He knows in Steve’s universe that their scientists are more advanced in this field, have more knowledge and experience firsthand about the multiverse. It’s truly just a matter of the right people advancing at the right time.

 

He thinks of how Steve holds him at night like he’s protecting him from the rest of the world, thinks of how his lips feel against his during their lazy mornings, and thinks of how Tony can make a man, who’s been through the ringer over and over again, smile so sweetly. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

 

“Tony—”

 

“ _Steve_ ,” Tony interrupts because he’s tired, wants to curl up somewhere and be left alone, doesn't want to meet Rogers’ eyes. “You need to go.”

 

Rogers opens his mouth to respond but stops himself, his posture going rigid and then he’s pushing himself up from the counter to stand up straight, hands in clenched fists, his eyes fixed on something behind Tony.

 

Godammit.

 

Tony turns and confirms with his eyes that it is in fact Steve who’s entered the room, clad only in simple sweats and a tank top, but his presence is no less intense. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, his jaw set tight and his blue eyes are dangerous on the other Steve in the room.

 

Right, because he told him about the war. He knew about Siberia.

 

And now Tony’s left with the fact that there are now two Steve Rogers in his kitchen and neither of them look happy.

 

“Look,” Tony snaps into the silence because judging by both of their stances, they both look like they’re ready to pounce at each other any second and Tony can’t explain how helpless it feels to be smack-dab in the middle of them. “This doesn’t need to get ugly.”

 

“No, it doesn’t,” Steve says, taking an assertive step forward, not-so-subtly putting himself between him and Rogers. “Captain, I think it’s best you leave.”

 

Rogers’ eyes dart between Tony and Steve. He takes one step back. “Tony…” he says carefully, but he doesn’t move again.

 

“Just go,” Tony says without any edge to his voice. Go, he thinks, because I don’t know how safe you are here and if you’ve been here long enough for Ross to show up with people trained to hunt you down and arrest you and kill if necessary and I can’t go through that, you know I can’t.

 

Rogers lets out a breath, his eyes growing sad. Tony almost looks away.

 

Rogers spares one more glance towards Steve and then back at him. “Stay safe, Tony, please,” he says and then he steels himself and walks across the room, down the stairs.

 

As soon as he’s out of his view, Tony sighs and leans against the counter, his elbows resting on top, hands covering his face. It isn’t until Friday announces that Rogers left the building that Tony relaxes somewhat but even then he can’t pry his hands away from his face, can’t risk the way he might fall apart if he does.

 

He hears Steve step closer. “Tony.” His hand comes to lightly brush Tony’s shoulder before disappearing.

 

Tony collects himself, runs his hands down his face. “Steve, you don’t need to treat me like I’m fragile, I know perfectly well you’re you and he’s him.”

 

“You’re shaking.”

 

Tony looks at his hands and oh, yeah he was. He reaches out to his side and Steve’s hand easily slides into his, steadying him. Tony finally turns to face him, their joined hands raising between them.

 

“I’m fine,” he says honestly. He doesn’t want Steve to think he’s frightened. He’s not because Steve Rogers didn’t scare him. “It was just…”

 

“Too much?”

 

“Too much,” Tony finishes.

 

Steve’s thumb slides over his skin. “What did he want?” he asks. His voice is tense, cautious.

 

Tony shakes his head. “Nothing you’re thinking. He says he came by to check on me and the others, not talk to us.” Tony looks up. “But he saw _us_ walking outside last night and got… worried.”

 

Steve chuckles. “I guess I would be too, seeing myself for the first time like that.” He looks at Tony with genuine concern then, his thumb still making gentle swipes over Tony’s skin. “Are you okay?”

 

Tony nods. “I will be.” He lets Steve pull him close into a hug.

 

It’s strange to think that years ago, the idea of him and Rogers could only have been a fleeting thought in his mind, nothing more, not with the way they’d started off so poorly and only going so far with any friendship. And then Ultron happened, and the Accords, and any rapport they could have had was slashed and burned, leaving Tony to pick up the pieces of a ruined home.

 

Now he’s here, being held by a Steve Rogers from a different universe where he knows the situation was even worse. Tony had Vision, he always had Happy, always had Rhodey, and even in the wake of their separation, always had Pepper. But losing people was never something he could get used to, so he drank, wallowed in quiet misery, and put up a front. Maybe things wouldn’t have gotten as worse as he feared, but a portal opening up in his living room that day, on some level, saved him from himself.

 

The intimacy used to be foreign to Tony, the only real touching he and Rogers had ever done being the occasional handshake or shoulder touch. But now he feels those hands, those different yet all the same hands and doesn’t wish they were anyone else's. He doesn’t wish they belonged to the Steve of this world.

 

His chest aches when he remembers this may not be permanent. Steve may not seem like he’s in a hurry to go back, but he _knows_ that Steve’s people will come for him eventually and Steve will have to go back to his world. To his Tony. And Tony will have to let him go because he doesn’t deserve to be selfish.

 

And he didn’t mean to fall in love with Steve Rogers, let alone a Steve Rogers from a different universe.

 

“I just want you to be okay. That’s all I want,” Steve whispers into his hair, his thumb stroking behind his ear. The touch doesn’t quite bring him peace. “I didn’t hear everything. Just what he said about… me going back.”

 

Tony’s hands tense and he loosens his grip around Steve’s waist.

 

“Tony, I—” Steve does pull away but only to meet Tony’s eyes, his arm still firm around him. Steve’s eyes go soft and he raises his hand to cup Tony’s cheek. “I love you.”

 

Oh.

 

“It’s not because of my Tony. It’s never been about that,” Steve says with conviction. “I do love him, but it’s not the same. Not the way that I love you.”

 

Tony finds himself unable to move or speak. Steve is watching his face so carefully. “Tell me you understand,” Steve whispers.

 

Tony thinks back to when he’d first let himself fall apart and collapse against this Steve, who listened to everything he’d say and just held Tony while he shook with the words. He cared so much, so much it scared Tony and made his chest bloom at the same time. He’d kissed Tony for the first time with such attentiveness, touched him like he was sacred, laid him out on his bed and took Tony apart with gentle touches and made him feel like he was worth something.

 

And Tony wonders when Steve looked at him and realized that he _was_ worth it. Wonders when Steve looked at his eyes and didn’t mind that he found brown staring back rather than a deep blue.

 

“I understand,” Tony responds and leans up to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> more 616 steve and mcu tony please I lov e this concept
> 
> since I'm not really one for open endings, this wasn't written as mcu steve-bashing or as unrequited love on either of their parts. more like a steve and tony who do care for each other and yes, mourn any chance they could have had, but it’s not their driving force and I'd like to think they reconcile back into being friends after some time :)  
> (and chronologically thanos is literally right around the corner so who knows)
> 
> yay or nay


End file.
